


Shades of Green

by Eoraptor



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Community: Kim Possible Slash Haven, F/F, Oneshot, clone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:03:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eoraptor/pseuds/Eoraptor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fighting against yourself takes on a whole new meaning... Weird Al anyone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Green

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Rated M for mature subjects. Kim Possible and Related Characters © 2002-2007 the Walt Disney Company. I do not own these characters and this work is not for profit and intended only for fair use and enjoyment.

Kim rested her hand on the door knob wearily, but paused, listening. Inside she heard grunting, and the smacking of flesh on wet leather.

 

The redhead sighed, she’d hoped to be able to come home to some quietness for a change, and to just vegetate. Instead, her “sister” was up and about, beating on the heavy anchored bag. Well, that or she was going to town on the sectional couch.

 

With an irritated grunt, Kim opened the door and did her best to sweep past the other redhead, in no mood to be around the noise or the violence after what she had been through that day, her nerves still raw and twitching, “I’m going to grab a shower.”

 

“Well don’t use up all the hot water this time.” Her sibling snorted past a bead of sweat, redoubling her remarkable speed on the two-hundred-pound bag strung from ceiling to floor in their shared apartment.

 

Rolling her eyes, Kim dropped her unused coat on the couch unceremoniously and made her way towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She sat down on the closed toilet and sighed, rubbing her face and feeling the dried grit of stress-sweat clinging to her skin.

 

A hot shower would be about the only thing to clean that kind of cloying film from her; but a hot shower was the last thing she wanted.

 

Kim eyed the closed door and sighed. She could still hear her sibling in the living area, working the bag. It was a grating sound to her already worked-over nerves; the sound of fists, knees, elbows, and whatever else hitting that big sand filled sack so closely resembling the sounds of fists and feet hitting other fleshy targets.

 

Not that she could blame the other redhead. She was pretty much confined to the apartment building, with no way to work off her energy or keep in shape. It was for her own good.

 

After all, the world probably wasn’t ready for the realization that there were two Kim Possibles.

 

“Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.” Kim muttered as she peeled off her sweat-stained shirt and stood up, trying to ignore the thump-thump-thud on the other side of the apartment.

 

She sympathized with her doppelganger. She knew she would be the one going insane on the equipment if their positions were reversed. They’d (or she) already been reported twice to the manager for doing laps up and down the stairs at all hours.

 

The other Kim was doing her best, Kim knew.

 

They’d found her holed up in the Sloth on coming in from a mission. The story she spun was fantastic. Even by Kim Possible’s standards.

 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t one of Drakken’s. He rarely repeated himself, and so cloning Kim wasn’t his plan.

 

Dementor, on the other hand… He was more than willing to try the old “clone and replace your foe” gambit to again get his hands on the Battle Suit. After all, it was purpose designed and built for Kim Possible. And while it could fit other people, it was meant for her alone.

 

The raw material was not difficult to get ahold of. Blood, sweat, hairs, skin cells, spit, some pee in the woods… Kim tended to leave it laying around with her dangerous life style. A bit of polymerase chain reaction and a viable egg cell and anyone could grow their own redhead.

 

The finer points were more difficult of course. It wouldn’t take long for Kim’s circle of friends to notice someone who looked just like her but acted nothing alike. Her parents, Wade, her bothers, Ron who had been her adoptive brother since she was 5 and more recently her boyfriend?

 

Unfortunately, again the source was easy to get ahold off. Kim had been compliance chipped, moodulated, memory wiped, nearly brain-shampooed, and so on, numerous times since she had started being a teen heroine. As such, there were multiple versions of her brain scans in existence, both from her doctors and from the devices used on her.

 

Even then, Team Possible’s experience with Drakken’s clones had left them prepared for such in the future. There were always telltales.

 

There were some factors of human development not controlled by genetics. A clone could be made taller or shorter, thicker or thinner, by their diet and exercise at certain points of development. One could even accidentally change the presented sex with the wrong hormones during fetal development.

 

And assuming that the cloner did manager to match physical growth; fingerprints, iris patterns, retinal and palm vasculature, and hair growth patterns were all formed randomly during incubation, not to mention incidental skin markers like moles and birth marks. Even the navel, an innie or outtie, was subject to the umbilical cord.

 

Still, Dementor had done his homework. He had found some way to make his clone’s fingerprints strongly resemble Kim Possible’s. Not a perfect match, but enough to fool all but the most intricate examination. Iris patterns and palm vascularization were easily enough masked by contact lenses and gloves.

 

He did a good job with matching Kim’s famous navel. As well as her many other photographed physical traits. Perhaps the only deviation was the deep seated programming intended to make his clone loyal and subversive.

 

Drakken’s clones had been monstrosities; clones of Kim Possible, Ron, Bonnie, and Rufus clumsily melded with cobras, elephants, and rabid poodles. They were wildly unstable and poorly programmed to fight and to follow cursory orders. Dementor’s, in contrast, ran to the opposite end of the spectrum and was a masterstroke of planning and execution.

 

And therein lay the flaw. The Professor’s clone was too perfect. Despite his programming to try and make his Kim duplicitous, stealthy, and dedicated only to him; her brain was still 93% Kim Possible.

 

As soon as she was decanted, or hatched, or born, or whatever it was polite to call the activation process, his Kim had attacked the evil villain’s forces, without even getting dressed or calling the Ron she imagined to be hers for rescue. She had taken out his top-of-the-line Henchmen with extreme prejudice, and then gone for the man himself.

 

Kim had informed Global Justice where to find Dementor based on what her duplicate had told her.

 

He was basically stuffed inside of his little helmet and then sacked inside a housecoat, unable to move, and had been for several days by that point.

 

So while the clone was 93% Kim… that other seven percent was quite a bit more ruthless it seemed.

 

Ron still wasn’t sure what to think or how to feel even after a few months. Part of him was terrified of the thought of a nearly perfect clone of his bff, partner, and girlfriend; and horrified that there might be more, or worse, clones of other people… like him. The teenage boy in him was rather taken with two smoking hot redheads who loved him and every boys’ fantasy.

 

Wade was still leery of Kim’s clone. She was good enough to pass even many of his own tests, and the brain scans did not make it clear how deep Dementor’s programming went. In fact, it was technically Mission Accomplished for the Professor… the duplicate Kim could walk right into her closet, swipe her hand over the scanner, punch in the pin, and access the battle suit.

 

The family… were unsure what to do with their new duplicate daughter who seemed so eerily similar and yet subtly different. So by agreement, Kim and her double moved out of the rebuilt family house (now admittedly cramped with two impossible redheaded nineteen year olds and two teenage boys plus the parents) and into a decent sized apartment down town.

 

And then there was the name issue. Kim and her duplicate shared the same memories, same experiences up until a few months ago; and aside from Dementor’s programming, much of the same personality.

 

So they both were “Kim.” Kim herself had suggested that her duplicate go by their middle name, “Anne.” That had lasted about three days. By mutual agreement it was a bit weird going by her mother’s name. And “Kimberly” was too much like when their father issued his punishing edict “We need to talk.”

 

Ron had suggested K.C., for Kim Clone, and was smacked twice for it.

 

And thus Kim and her new twin sister with the same name were in their current odd living arrangement. The duplicate was not yet cleared to leave the apartment, both because of uncertainties about her mental state, and because of the security risks posed by Kim’s foes finding out about the possibilities in cloning her.

 

Not even Global Justice knew about the “new and improved” Kim living in the apartment alongside the original.

 

With a sigh, the primary redhead shucked off her capris and turned on the shower. She carefully dialed the water and climbed into the stall. The flow was cool, just warm enough to keep her from shrieking at the brisk rush of liquid from the shower heads.

 

Her skin puckered and goosebumped at the cold water flowing over her. Her nipples instantly turned to pebbles and her toes tried to curl against the tile floor of the stall as she grit her teeth against the chill. Finally, after a few minutes Kim grew accustomed to the cool water, letting it soothe away the last dregs of her adrenaline and calm her body down, slowing her pulse and breathing after the initial chilled rush to her heart.

 

She, of course, had to scrub extra hard with the bath brush and body wash to get the flop sweat off of her prickled skin, but the cold water helped in other ways to make up for its inefficacy.

 

Fifteen minutes later she drew back the curtain and stepped out, only to find herself waiting for her.

 

“Couldn’t wait?” Kim snorted, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her torso quickly. She honestly wondered how her brothers did it, being twins.

 

But her double wasn’t moving to get in the shower. She was smirking at Kim a bit and looking her up and down, and then looking at the mirror above the sink.

 

“Huh… a cold shower… someone get a little pink today?” she grinned at her progenitor and leaned up against the wall.

 

“Pink?” Kim demurred and shook her head, grabbing a second towel to begin drying her long hair.

 

Her movement was interrupted by the other Kim gripping her wrist, running a thumb up her forearm and over suspiciously sensitive skin, “Mmmhm. The aloe vera in our body wash and the cold water covered it up, but we both know what it means when we take cold showers.”

 

“You mean when I take cold showers.” Kim scowled and pulled her hand away. She was so tired, and in no mood to play this psychological game today. “You’ve never done that.”

 

Kim’s clone rolled her own olive green eyes and snorted, “Maybe not technically, but I have every experience you do. We shower because of how it feels after fighting her. The heat soaked into our skin, the sweat and burn on our faces…”

 

The original redhead felt the unspoken continuation of that statement. She refused to rise to the bait, though.

 

“But you know, maybe I should just switch places with you one of these times. After all, it would spare you the shivers and needing to curl up in bed for two hours to warm up after the shower. And then I’d really get to fight with her too.” The second Kim sighed dismissively as she offered, moving past to tug her own shirt off and toss it into the hamper.

 

Snorting derisively, Kim resumed drying her hair, “Assuming you even pass muster to go out in daylight, she would so ferociously outclass you.”

 

“Oh please, you know that I know everything you do, including Ron’s kosher crew cut status.” The additional Kim smirked as she lifted a leg to the toilet seat to get her tabi socks off her sweaty feet, “Or maybe this isn’t doubt I’m hearing… but jealousy?”

 

The teen heroine wheeled on her genetic sister and glared, “What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Oh please… we both know how we feel about her.” The statement was accompanied by a sweaty sock being flung at the bathed girl’s face.

 

“And how is that?” Kim huffed, forcing herself to look at her own eyes in the vanity over the sink as she turned away, so she wouldn’t be seen to flinch.

 

“Still can’t accept that I know you and you know me, huh?” Kim number two stood in her yoga pants and huffed, “Oh well, probably for the best… unlike you, I’m not currently in a relationship. Maybe one of us could suck it up and give it a try.”

 

“She’d eat you alive.” Kim muttered under her breath as she tried to steady herself.

 

In the close quarters of the bathroom, with its large shower stall and small everything-else, she was easily overheard. Her doppelganger just grinned and watched her original, “A girl can hope…”

 

“Oh My Gosh!” the heroine turned beet red at the innuendo and whirled to face her sister again. “One, we are SO not like that, two she is EVIL, three…”

 

“Three you are living in the damned closet.” The second Kim snorted with offense. “We may love Ron, but you and I both know you wouldn’t kick her out of bed… or a few other places. Denial isn’t just the river we saved six months ago.”

 

Kim glared at her duplicate for an angry moment. Finally she huffed and turned to storm out of the shared bathroom.

 

Her path was blocked when the other Kim moved easily to stand before the bathroom door, “Seriously… It’s not healthy. I know you don’t want Ron to find out… but get over it. You like girls too. WE like girls too. Or were we just kidding when we told Joss that we like boys ‘sometimes.’?”

 

Sneering as her own memories were used against her, Kim moved to push her way past her alternate, planting a hand on her shoulder to shove her aside.

 

But the other Kim was warmed up and ready to go from her exercise, while the original teen heroine was chilled down from a cold shower and was moving a step slow. Kim number two easily reached up, grabbed her arm, and pivoted the both of them around; forcing her original into a submission hold against the wall with her arm behind her back in a half-nelson.

 

“Admit it, Kim,” she purred into the trapped redhead’s ear as she pressed her further to the wall, “She gets you hot. That butt in that spandex? The way those thighs flex when she crouches low to tackle to you? The smell of her hair, half ozone and half sandalwood and sage? How she calls you Cupcake and you just dream about letting her lick the creamy center out of you?”

 

Kim squirmed against the hold and tried to break free. But every movement she made was instantly countered by her sister and only resulted in her towel coming undone. She growled hotly and glared over her shoulder at her double.

 

“Oh, don’t want to hear this?” the doppelganger grinned, grunting a bit with the effort to restrain her counterpart. “You know how you feel when she calls you Princess. God I remember that dream still. Mmm you remember it too? Us, her, the dimly lit throne room? She in that black latex dress that Lady Deathwyrm wore in Ron’s movie… and us in just a tiara and heels? Our first time waking up from a sex dream… and it was NOT about a boy, how shocked were we?”

 

“Shut up!” Kim gasped, half in pain from the submission hold, and half in a rage at what her sister was telling her, reminding her of.

                                               

“How many weeks did we spend trying to convince ourself that it was just stress? That everyone had sex dreams and weird dreams and it was just a particularly weird sex dream…” the duplicate Possible giggled a bit, and then licked the back of her other self’s neck at the base, tasting the clean skin there in a bold move she knew would make Kim shudder and lose control of her struggling. “We, me, you… just about imploded the next time she called us Princess.”

 

“Guuuh!” Kim did indeed shudder at the warm, wriggling tongue hitting her in a very weak spot, “God you really are the evil twin, aren’t you!?”

 

“Maybe… maybe not. Maybe just not worrying about Ron’s love the same way you do frees me up to consider the alternative.” The sweaty Kim tilted her head in genuine consideration at this, while still holding her clean self against the wall.

 

“Grrr, let me go!” Kim barked, bucking again, losing her towel in the process.

 

Deciding to tease and further unseat her other self, Kim Two flashed her teeth against the base of Kim’s neck, knowing that particular dark little desire. “Sure, just as soon as you admit you want her as much as I do.”

 

Kim shivered hard when she felt teeth against her skin, her body betraying her iron will. And maybe, on some level, her subconscious was betraying her too. “I told you. I am not that way!”

 

“You are.” The other Kim snorted, moving closer to her captive, using her body now to trap her instead of the twisted arm, “Remember, I am you. I know what we both thought the night Miss Go hugged us for letting her stay. How that lacey bra she had on under her blouse felt pressed against us. You don’t want to admit it right now, but you went to sleep thinking about wanting to get that shirt off her and see that bra. Because I did too.”

 

Still trying to escape the hold, Kim wedged her bare leg against the inside of her double’s. “Rrrrr, stop it!”

 

“Or what?” the second Kim smirked and countered Kim’s movement, winding their legs together so that any move Kim might try to escape would injure them both. “I know what it is. You didn’t want the bra, you wanted the claws.”

 

Kim felt fingernails run up her body, from the point of her hip, up her oblique muscles, to just under her breast. She sucked in air and squeezed her eyes shut because this time, an involuntary image of the woman they were arguing about sprang right into her mind. She growled and tried to will it away, forcing back with her hips. “You’re sick.”

 

“No, WE are. The difference is, I am in touch with what’s wrong, you’re still trying to suppress it.” The cloned Kim repeated the teasing rake of her fingernails up the bare Kim’s flank. “I can feel you, you know. It’s weird, but I can almost hear your heart speeding up, sense your skin getting flushed as if it were my own. You’re thinking about her right now, huh?”

 

Kim grit her teeth and growled, refusing to admit to being caught thinking about her foe whole being tortured by her sibling clone.

 

“And you want her back like I do.” The doppelganger purred against Kim’s neck again, lightly dragging her teeth down her spine between her shoulders. “You want to go back to the chasing and the fighting, and get her out of Drakken’s lair and his stupid vines.”

 

The trapped redhead huffed, squirming now as she was again attacked at her weakest point, the flesh between her shoulders shivering at the sensation. The worst of it, her own mind berated her, was that she knew her duplicate was right, “You are ferociously sick…”

 

“No,” the other Kim raked her fingernails down the hollow of Kim’s hip dangerously, “You are, I’m just a reflection of you wanting something that’s so heinously bad for you.”

 

Kim hissed and shivered. She realized that her sister was right, she could feel her. Because she could sense her other self too, feel her turning so hot now; thinking about the same evil woman. And she was using her own erogenous zones to tease her and keep her stuck to the wall.

 

“Mmmmm, so bad for you, like chocolate cake…” the duplicate purred against the back of her sibling’s neck at the thought, “but cake that licks you back.”

 

For a moment the heroine forgot herself, imagining it was the villainess pinning her to the wall and touching those spots no one else knew to touch, nibbling the back of her neck and using her claws to make the redhead’s skin flinch and flicker so expertly. She let go a heated breath and leaned back against the warm body behind her, her mind flooded with a rush of needs and hormones.

 

And then her eyes flashed open and she cursed herself for all but moaning that woman’s name. She was not giving her clone the satisfaction. It was sick and wrong!

 

In a flash she grabbed the other Kim’s yoga pants by the belt and rolled her hips, executing a judo flip and flinging her hard into the shower stall with prejudice. “I said get off!”

 

The second Kim hit the white tiles head-first with a thud and collapsed to the wet floor, groaning. After a moment she rolled over, holding her head, and looked at her other self. She grinned, because Kim’s bare body; her body in mirror, was flushed pink and her pupils were dilated wildly as she panted.

 

“I think one of us was about to…”

 

“Gah you’re Impossible!” the heroic redhead threw up her hands nearly screeched, heedless of what her other self was looking at. “You know what? You two deserve each other! The evil clone and the vile villainess!”

 

“No, but don’t worry, it’s a common mistake.” The clone smirked at the most common Kim Possible joke ever told.

 

Kim stormed out of the bathroom before her genetic sibling could move to intercept her a second time, enraged and wound up. She muttered darkly at the teasing she had been subjected to and yanked on her robe, picking up her phone and practically jamming her thumb through the screen as she punched up speed dial, “Ron? Here. Now. Five minutes.”

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Based on a challenge issued at KP Slash Haven…   
> Remember, REVIEWS = LOVE


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